


X Marks The Spot

by orphan_account



Category: Paramore
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-28
Updated: 2017-03-28
Packaged: 2018-10-12 04:12:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10481796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Getting fingered is something he can do right now.  Is that something he can do by himself?  He might as well try.(It's the fingering fic, y'all.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> after a million years, here it is. this started as a prompt on my tumblr and spiraled a little bit out of control, but i had so much fun with it. god, this is filthy. i had to look through my eyes while writing some parts. eeek!
> 
> this is probably 2010, t is 20.
> 
> disclaimer (my god, it is necessary for this one): i don't know anyone! i don't own anyone! any situation here is highly, highly fictitious! any resemblance to real life is purely coincidental! please don't sue me! if you're the person who is in this work, please make friends with the back button, don't fucking google yourself you know better, and enjoy your hetero vanilla sex life! thank you!
> 
> thanks to all who read. enjoy.

Despite what everyone thinks about him, despite what his faith has taught him to do, Taylor has always been interested in sex. He’s been looking at porn since he was in junior high school, catching Justin in the act and memorizing the website. He and his high school girlfriend went out for a week before having sex. He likes it rough, gentle, somewhere in between. He likes getting blown, but he also loves eating girls out, especially when they come on his face. He’s even delved into BDSM sites, but that stuff’s not for him. His taste is, as the sites call it, vanilla. It’s frustrating. He’s so thankful to have a hot girlfriend who’s almost as much into sex as he is, but even she can’t keep up sometimes. 

They’re back in Nashville for a week and a half, a breather from a European tour that had everyone fried. Things are so tense right now that Taylor’s back and shoulders hurt all the time. He knows that getting off would provide some relief, but with a bus full of people, he gets shy. It’s kind of funny that he gets shy about that of all things. He gets away from everyone as fast as he can. After dropping off his bags at home, he decides he wants to just drive somewhere. Get a cup of coffee, check out the new book store they passed on the way back, just something to do. Anything to distract him from how horny he is. He could call Gabby up, but they’re hanging out tomorrow. He just needs to be by himself right now, after months of not. 

Getting into the car and driving is a blissful blur. Gliding into the coffee shop is a blissful blur. Sitting down and leafing through some silly magazine is a blissful blur. Bliss after months of tension. He’s drinking his third cup of coffee when his reverie gets interrupted by a sharp, high voice to his right. He looks up and sees two girls sitting down at a table, frappes in hand. One girl has firetruck red hair and raccoon eyeliner, kind of like Hayley a year ago. The other one is a tan blonde with manicured nails and soft makeup. It’s weird how these two are friends. Then again, it’s weird how he’s friends with any of his boring friends. 

“I have something crazy to tell you,” the red head says, her voice full of intent. Taylor will cop to being the nosiest person ever, so he starts to listen. Hopefully she talks about some really crazy party. He misses being an ordinary person sometimes.

“Lay it on me, babe,” the blonde says. Her voice is pretty and feminine and Taylor’s heart flips a little. 

“Jesse wants me to strap-on fuck him,” the red hair says. 

What? _What_? Did she just say what he thinks she said? But... 

“What?” the blonde says, clacking her manicured nails against the table. At least she’s on the same page as him. 

“Believe me, I am thrilled,” the red head says. “This is like Christmas for me.” 

“Of course you are, you little freak,” the blonde says, grinning. “What’s the verdict?”

“I told him we should probably work up to it,” the red head says. “Y’know, I should probably finger him a few times first so he sees if he likes it. Have you ever done anything like that before?” 

“I’ve done that with guys while I blew them before and they seemed to like it,” the blonde says. Taylor’s never heard of anyone doing that to a guy during oral. “I see nothing wrong with it.”

“Thank God,” the red head says, relief visible on her face. “I thought you were gonna be freaked out.” 

The blonde scoffs. “Oh my God, not at all. I’m pretty sure a guy’s G-spot wouldn’t be up his ass if it wasn’t meant to be explored, you know?” 

So that’s where that is. The prostate? Yeah. Taylor feels kinda dumb for not knowing about his own anatomy, but he’s never had to think about it before. He gives it to whoever he’s fucking. No one gives it to him. Why would he care? 

“That’s what I said when he got all shy,” the red head says. “It was really cute actually. I think he was worried about it being gay or something, but like, it’s not gay if I’m doing it to you. Last time I checked, I’m a girl. If it were a guy doing it to you, it would be gay. Boys are so stupid sometimes.”

“Right though?” the blonde says. “So dumb. Anyway, now that we’ve discussed your boyfriend’s walk on the wild side, I have so much to tell you about the fencing semi-finals.”

The red head makes an excited noise as they change the subject, but Taylor can’t think of anything else. He finishes his coffee so he doesn’t look suspicious, then tosses out the cup and practically runs to his car. He grips the steering wheel and breathes in, out, in, out, waiting for the panic that doesn’t come. Why was he excited about hearing that? Does he want to get fucked in the ass? Maybe not yet. He’s not ready, like Jesse or whatever isn’t ready. He doesn’t even have a dildo or anything, so that’s out. But getting fingered is something he can do. Is that something he can do for himself? He might as well try. As he pulls out of the space, he nods. He’s gonna do this. And to think he wouldn’t get up to anything today. 

When he gets home, he goes right upstairs, not even bothering to stop anywhere else. Even though he lives all alone now, even though he could have all the windows and doors open, Taylor still locks his bedroom door and checks the lock before stripping down. There would probably have been more thrill if he did this on the road, but he can’t risk getting caught buck naked with a finger (more?) up his ass. That would be the end of his life, probably. As he lies down on his back, he spreads his legs, shifting his hips for easier access to...well, to make things easier for himself. He feels that familiar squirm in the pit of his gut, the one he gets when he’s turned on. Gosh, this is a sin. Fuck, he is so excited. It’s kind of sick. It’s way too thrilling.

He lies there for a solid minute, staring at the ceiling as his hands tremble by his sides. Wait, fuck - lube. He really doesn’t want to go in there dry. He rolls onto his stomach and feels around the floor until he can find his backpack. (Yeah, it’s weird that it’s in there. No, he doesn’t care.) He pulls it out and flicks open the cap, pouring what’s probably a bit too much on his fingers. Oh well. His hands are shaking too much for that to even matter. Placing it on the bed beside him, he shifts onto his back again and spreads his legs, feet planted on the bed. He’s doing this. He’s really doing this. He reaches between his cheeks with his left hand and tentatively touches his asshole.

Gosh, it’s cold, so cold, but...so damn good. Each feathery stroke of that skin feels like a mini shock, the best kind of electricity. When he starts to rub his asshole in circles, he feels himself getting hard just from this light touch. His nipples are so hard that they’re a little uncomfortable. He’s dying to be touched, dying for someone’s mouth to be on his cock, but that’s not what this is about. He could call Gabby up and have her come over, but that’s not what this is about. 

He’s doing this. He’s doing this.

He puts a little more lube on his fingers just to be sure, then he places his middle fingertip at the center. He’s breathing so hard, his heart thudding in his chest. As he pushes in, he feels himself tense up at the intrusion. It’s so weird having something inside him. Is this how chicks feel? It’s only a little painful, probably due to how slick everything is, but his nerves are reeling from how bold he feels. _Relax, York, relax._ As he exhales, he relaxes himself, his finger slipping in just a little more because of it. Mmm, fuck, that’s good. Should he push further? 

He wants so badly to touch himself, even just stroke the skin of his cock, but he’s not going to. He feels himself leaking on his stomach just the slightest bit. Instead of giving in to that sweet temptation, he slides his finger in more, past the second knuckle. Each millimeter he pushes, it gets easier, but where to go from here... After pausing to catch his breath (has he been holding it in this whole time?), he slides the rest of the way in, bottoming his finger out.

For a second, he just lies there, mouth open as he pants. Every inch of his body is on fire, his skin hyper aware of the soft sheets beneath him. He feels so full already, and this is one skinny finger. What if he moves it? He knows it’s possible, has jacked off to more than one video of a girl getting fucked in the ass. Counting to three, he wiggles his finger once, twice, three times, shoving it up beyond what should be comfortable. What goes up must come down, and when he tugs down, it’s weird. It’s weird, but he wants to do it again. Huh.

Things are a little dry now, so he slides his finger out and puts a little more lube down there, rubbing himself before sliding his finger back in. Much better. He starts to actually move it and fuck, that feels good, just...nice. He starts to move it faster and really fuck himself, angling his leg so he can have better leverage. He’s starting to sweat, the sheets clinging to his damp back, but he doesn’t care. It’s becoming apparent that this isn’t enough, no matter how intense it is. Can he handle two? 

He stops and catches his breath, putting a bit more lube on the first finger and another one before stacking them and sliding in. This is a little more painful, so he’s slow again. He wants to jump right away to the faster pace, but he has to be patient. Ugh, he hates being patient. As he pumps his fingers, he thinks about all the times he’s just thrown a girl on the bed - been thrown on a bed - and had quick, rough, dirty sex. But when has he ever taken the time to be gentle with himself? It doesn’t feel manly to think that, but after how stressful this tour has been, he deserves this.

He begins to pick up the pace more, but before he can really get things going, he angles wrong and hits...something that makes his eyes cross with how good it feels. He stills his fingers and stares up at the ceiling, eyes open for the first time in a while. Fuck. Holy shit. This has to be the G-spot the two girls were talking about. It’s scary that something in him is that sensitive and feels that good, but he can roll with it. That’s what he’s been doing his whole time as a sexual being. Now, to chase that feeling again.

He tentatively slides his fingers in that same angle and nudges that spot again, a gentle brush that makes him shiver. With a deep breath, he starts to move his fingers faster and harder, hitting that spot almost every time. He’s so happy he lives by himself, judging by the high keening noises he’s making as he thrusts harder. He plants his feet on the bed and shifts his hips down for better access to his hole, his body moving in time with his hand. He’s thrown his arm over his eyes to stop himself from jacking off. He has to try and come from just this. He’s not sure if that’s possible or if his body will allow him to do that, but he has to try. 

His orgasm catches him off guard, unlike any other time he’s ever come. He hits his G-spot, his cock twitches, and next thing he knows, there’s come all over his chest and stomach. He lets himself yell because he can, and even still feels a little bit embarrassed. The feeling spreads from his pelvis down his thighs and up to his belly, his heart hammering with the exertion. Hands down, it’s the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. 

After his yell, he lets out little whines as he rides it out, until the last drop is spilled on his skin. The aftershock has him sweating and shaking as he flops like a starfish and stares up at his ceiling fan. He knows he has to clean himself up and hopes he’ll actually be able to stand in the shower. Thankfully, nothing got on his bed spread, but he might change it anyway. He can only bring himself to feel a little dirty, and even then, it’s tempered with a giddiness that comes with a secret. This is his little secret, and he can’t wait until he gets to do it again.


End file.
